Making a home in Oz
by Vala-sg1
Summary: 5 short ficlets about Rusty getting used to life with Sharon. Mother!ship, mentions of Shandy. I wrote this months ago so the timeline for the last ficlet may be early S4. I might add more chapters if the mood strikes. This is my first fanfic in this fandom, so I'm still finding my footing with the characters.
1. Chapter 1

1.

"I hate this!" Rusty spit through gritted teeth as he dropped his bag onto the floor and flopped onto the bed.

Not only did he have the police's collective breath on his neck because of what he saw, but on top of everything now he was stuck with that nightmare of a woman. He stared at his surroundings: the spotless marble floors and pristine white walls, and the neat geometry of the wooden wardrobe and desk. Of course her house would sparkle like a detergent commercial, and of course she would have a stupid floral bedspread in her spare room.

Prim and proper Sharon Raydor. The Wicked Witch.

Even her own people wanted nothing to do with her. Why would he want to share his life with her, day in, day out, for God knows how long? He lifted himself up on the mattress. If she could be a nightmare to him, then he could be one to her as well. He would find a way to get out of that house.

2.

So, he was really stuck. Documents had been signed and now he had to wear a school uniform and go to summer school. Catholic summer school, of all places. He was not happy, not by a long shot, but he didn't mind the soft bed, hot showers in the morning, and access to food whenever he was hungry, even when it was some godawful stale bagel from the break room in Major Crimes.

When they actually managed to get home at a decent hour, Sharon would concoct something for them, and he would help. He was probably a better cook than she was, but she probably made a better job of getting all the necessary nutrients into him. Still, when he heard her puttering around in the kitchen, he dropped his textbook aside on the bed and wandered into the living room. Maybe there was something for him to do, or to taste. He was feeling a little hungry after all this homework.

She was humming to herself, a classical tune he'd heard before on one of her CDs – some dead guy with an unpronounceable name – while chopping up tomatoes, and she was, he guessed, practicing ballet steps. He stood there, debating whether to alert her to his presence, when she turned on the toes of one foot, her other leg extended, and spotted him. Startled, she stopped dead in her tracks, and promptly blushed.

"Hey." He waved at her with two fingers. Sharon Raydor blushed, who would have thought.

"Hey. I was just, uh, starting dinner." She motioned toward the cutting board.

"I saw that." He remarked, which only seemed to increase her embarrassement. "Need any help?" Seeing her surprise at his offer, he felt the need to justify his lack of hostility. "I'm hungry, so, if I help you dinner may happen sooner."

Her lips curled in a small smile, "Of course. You could finish with the tomatoes while I get the meat going, ok?" He nodded and stepped forward, taking the knife from her hand. "So," he asked, as he set to the task, "I thought your daughter was the dancer of the family."

She cleared her throat uncomfortably. He already knew her pitch would be an octave higher when she spoke, and he was soon proven right. "Yes, she managed to make a career out of it, but I, uh, also danced for many years when I was younger. I was not pro material, but I enjoyed it." She shrugged.

"The mighty Captain Raydor in a tutu, uh? I bet old Provenza would have a field day if he knew." Rusty could actually picture the man's reaction in his head and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"Rusty…" Her voice held a warning in it, but he didn't miss the vein of amusement underlying her tone. "All right, all right, I'll keep it to myself. So, what else did you do before you became a walking rulebook?"

3.

On one rare rainy Sunday, he tried to teach her how to play chess. He already knew she was sharp – she caught murderers for a living, after all – but she had no patience for strategic thinking outside the murder room. She stared at the board with a mix of determination and annoyance, head cocked to the side and a steaming mug of tea in her left hand.

She narrowed her eyes, brow furrowing, as her fingers went predictably to one of her bishops.

"Hmm, I could get your knight with my bishop" she nodded towards the black knight directly on the bishop's path and took a sip of her tea. Rusty made a show of pretending to ponder her move.

"Well, you could do that," he said, popping a peanut into his mouth, "but then I would give you checkmate in three moves."

She made a flailing gesture with her free hand, her eyes rolling upwards behind her glasses. "How?" She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "This is the third time –"

"Do you really want to know?" He asked, a smirk printed on his lips. At his smile, her own frustration dissipated, amusement now dancing in her eyes. She scrunched up her nose in refusal. "Not really. Should we, uh, put this aside for the time being and make some cupcakes for tomorrow's breakfast?" She suggested.

Rusty immediately got up from his chair. "I'll get the sprinkles."

4.

The first time he hugged her was after the whole fiasco with his mom. She had been so relieved to see him after he stupidly ran away from Lieutenant Flynn that he thought she would be the one to go to him, but she restrained herself, respecting his dislike for physical contact. He felt stupid, for trusting his mom not to abandon him again, and on top of that he felt guilty because Sharon and the others had lost the money they had offered to buy his mom the bus ticket to Los Angeles. And because Flynn had been holding himself responsible for his disappearance for hours before Sharon had found him, safe and sound, in her condo.

"I'm sorry, Sharon. About today." He whispered when he saw her stand from her couch, book in hand, ready for bed. "You don't have to be." She dismissed his worries with a flick of her hand.

"I insisted because I wanted to see my mom and it was a disaster."

Her eyes grew softer. "And it's still not your fault." He looked down at his feet. "Hey." She called his attention. "Do you hear me? It was not your fault. None of this is."

He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting tears. "Is Flynn angry that I ran?"

She shook her head and offered him a warm smile "He's as relieved as everybody else that you're home safe. They were all worried, and they will be very happy to see you tomorrow after school. Ok?" He looked up and smiled feebly at her. "Ok." She was about to turn away to walk to her room when he reached out and wrapped his arms around her back. She smelled of her evening chamomile tea and fabric softener when he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"I'm glad I stumbled upon you." He felt her squeeze him briefly and drop a kiss on the top of his head before she released him. "I'm glad I stumbled upon you, too."

5.

When she was sick, Sharon was insufferable . She'd caught a bad flu and her doctor had put her on bed rest for a few days. He'd reminded, much to her outrage, her that she was no longer 20, and explicitly forbade her from going to work and sharing her germs with the entire division.

Once her medicines kicked in and she was no longer a listless lump on the couch surrounded by mountains of crumpled tissues and empty mugs of tea, it had become a full time job for Rusty to keep her entertained while she alternatively complained about the fever and congested nose and not being able to leave the apartment.

It was somewhat of a relief to see Andy Flynn step into the condo with homemade soup and a bunch of case files on a Friday night, and he did not hesitate when the lieutentant suggested he take a night off from keeping company to the grumpy captain. As he tied his shoes and waved his goodbye, he stole a look at the two of them, huddled together over the case files, him still in his work suit, her wrapped in an afghan, chuckling lightly over something he'd said, and he felt a slight pang of discomfort as his mind went back to his biological mother and the men she brought into their house.

He shook the thought out of his head immediately. Sharon was not his biological mother, and over the course of the four years they had spent together she had proven to him over and over that his safety and well-being came even before her own. Andy Flynn was a good guy, and he had grown fond of him. And he liked that he made Sharon happy, even if that meant even more off-tune singing during breakfast.

"Don't be too late! And have fun!" she called after him, her voice still raw from her sore throat. "Right back atcha." He said, flashing her a simile from over his shoulder, and left.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This is a bit longer than the previous ficlets. It's a tag to episode 4.10. Thank you for your reviews!

He should have been happy. He had identified Alice – Mariana, her siblings, who were both alive and well, and the LAPD had given her a proper burial. Slider was in jail awaiting trial. The case could finally be closed, and justice served. He should have been happy, and yet, he felt sad and exhausted. All their hard work could not bring Mariana back, nor reunite Gus with his other sister, Paloma.

"Maybe I should have never brought Gus into this." He said, aloud, as he shrugged off his jacket. He saw Sharon's shoulders tense from where she stood, balancing on one boot while carefully removing the other. She looked tired, too, and as defeated as he felt. "Why would you say this?" she asked.

He shrugged, exhaling with a sigh. "Because maybe living with the hope of finding her someday is better than knowing the truth, that she was killed and dumped like trash and now she's buried forever."

She shook her head gently and turned her body so she faced him. "Nobody should have to bury a little sister. Nobody should feel entitled to take someone else's life. It's unfair, Rusty, we both know that, and especially when victims are children like Mariana." She reached out to rub his arm gently and he once again felt tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. "But you gave Gus closure. He will never stop hurting, but that will still be better than wondering, day in day out, where his sister is. It's better to know the truth, however bad it might be, than to live in an endless limbo."

She was right, of course, but he found that even her words could not make him feel better. He hugged her instead, finding solace in the familiarity of her scent and her comforting arms around his back. She felt smaller than she used to when he hugged her for the first time four years back, and yet she was as solid as a rock, holding the weight of his body and that of his fears without hesitation or falter. As he felt the weight on his heart ease a little, he was grateful Flynn had volunteered to get them all takeout while he and Sharon drove straight to the condo. He assumed it was a deliberate choice to allow him and Sharon a few minutes on their own, and he appreciated that.

He gave her a last squeeze and released her. "Thanks Sharon." he said, and she gave him a warm smile as an answer. She reached up and wiped a stray tear off his cheek with her thumb, then let her arm fall at her side. "Andy will be here soon, why don't you go and find us something nice to watch while I set the table?"

Truth be told, he would have rather spent the night alone with Sharon, but he understood why she would want him there tonight. He was so used to thinking of Sharon as this indestructible hero that it was hard to imagine she might welcome, or even need, someone to lean on. Someone willing to carry part of her burden.

So, when she curled into Andy's side on the couch and promptly fell asleep 10 minute into the 90's action flick he had selected for her benefit, glasses askew on her nose and a leg dangling haphazardly off the cushions, he decided he was not going to tease her about it.

Too much, that was.


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, it was a good thing Rusty liked Andy Flynn, as he'd been spending every waking moment outside class in the company of the good Lieutenant since his run in with a suspect's car. It reminded him a bit of the time in his life when he was followed everywhere by a security detail, except this time around it was him who was shadowing a cop. One who shuffled around in his mother's condo in plaid pants and a robe, complaining about boredom, but a cop nonetheless.

Andy's health scare had thrown the three of them into this living arrangement prematurely, and they were still trying to navigate their current situation. He was still trying to figure out which incident involving the men in Sharon's life was more ridiculous, Jack Raydor barging into the condo in the middle of the night acting as if he owned the place, or Sharon's new boyfriend stealing his room and drinking all his ginger ale.

He was trying to concentrate on his English assignment when a loud clang coming from the kitchen made his ears ring. "Perfect. When did my life turn into a dysfunctional sitcom?" He sighed, his eyes rolling to the ceiling, and padded to the kitchen, where Andy was standing at the counter, looking down at the two pans that had crashed to the floor.

"I'm sorry Rusty, I was looking for a cookie sheet, but I'm not supposed to lift my arms and trying to get these down without moving too much didn't work very well, apparently." He said, barely concealed frustration seeping into his words. At least he'd waited for help before he could do any more damage, Rusty thought as he picked up and rearranged the pans so that, hopefully, Sharon would not notice they had ever been misplaced.

"And why would you need a cookie sheet, Lieutenant?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

Andy shrugged and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his robe. "I guess I wanted to make something for Sharon, I'm going stir-crazy in here, lounging on the couch all day like a sick old man!"

 _But you ARE a sick old man!_ The thought roared in Rusty's head, but he curbed his frustration. He reminded himself that he liked the guy, and that his mother had grown quite attached to him.

"Look, if you want to get Sharon cookies, I'll drive to the bakery and buy the ones she likes, ok? But you're not supposed to do anything that may move the clot. Like, mixing dough or bending over to put stuff in the oven. Geez, you know that if she finds out, she'll have both our asses. And heaven forbid, if anything happens to you while you're baking, she'll still have our asses and I assure you, Lieutenant, it will be awful for everybody involved."

He seemed to ponder his words for a moment, and then he saw him grit his teeth. "But if I watch another minute of _Friends_ I'm going to go on a damn rampage and then Sharon will have an actual reason to get angry at me."

Rusty huffed. "Then don't watch TV! Do your breathing exercises, listen to some music, learn Portuguese! Sharon said you could use her Kindle and buy something new if there was nothing on it you liked." He gestured towards the living room table, where the reader lay abandoned close to a flower vase. "If you let me finish my assignment first we can play chess. Or whatever."

Again, Flynn didn't look very convinced. Rusty could see him clenching and unclenching his fists in his robe pockets. Which he wasn't supposed to do, but Rusty thought better than telling him, least he worked his blood pressure up to dangerous levels.

"Look," he said, in a placating tone. "I understand you are frustrated. I was in your situation when I started out with you guys, right? There was always someone on my heels, I couldn't do anything on my own – remember? I was a pain in you guys' asses. But all of that, even if I didn't realize it at the time, was for my own good. And all of this is for your own good now. And," he added, pointing his finger at the Lieutenant, "you know how much Sharon worries. So, no need to make her more anxious than she needs to be."

Flynn snorted, sarcastically. "Says you."

That was the last straw. "That's it." He said threateningly as he fished his phone out of his pocket. "I'm calling Patrice."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you everybody for your reviews! You keep my muse happy :) This chapter is a tag to 4.18. I have read on Tumblr, after the whole deleted kiss debacle, that the scene where Sharon opens Andy's Christmas gift ended up on the cutting floor as well. Since I'd wondered about what it might have been, here's my two cents on the context of that box ;)

MC MC MC MC

"Weren't you going to wear red on Christmas?" Emily asked, her voice distorted over the computer, as Rusty pulled up the zipper of Sharon's purple dress. It was a short-sleeved number with a flared skirt that ended just above her knees. It was a little less severe than her usual business clothes, and a bit different from her usual style, but it complimented her well.

"Well, that was the original idea…" Sharon trailed off. She ducked her head and moved her hair to the side so that Rusty could fasten the little button at the nape of her neck. He took a step back when he was done and went back to buttoning his own shirt. "Thank you Rusty." She said warmly.

"So," Emily piped from the computer's speakers, "why not the red dress?" Rusty flashed Emily a lopsided grin when he saw their mother's cheeks flush. "Because, my dear Emily," he started dramatically, " _someone_ gave mom a present at the division party yesterday night and that wouldn't fit with the red dress." He raised his eyebrows, pointing his thumb towards Sharon's dresser, where her jewelry for the day lay neatly on the tabletop.

"Get out of here!" Emily exclaimed cheerfully. "Mom, why didn't you tell me sooner? This should have been top priority! I cannot believe you would keep things from your only daughter, I'm lucky I've got my little brother here to keep me in the loop." Rusty shared a conspiratorial look with Emily, whose eyes now sparkled with mirth.

He was sorry he wouldn't get to see her this Christmas, but she was working over the next few days and could only fly to LA for New Year's. He liked both of his acquired siblings, but he had formed a stronger bond with Emily, and while Ricky had mellowed out with age, Emily still retained a childish streak that she was happy to indulge in when Rusty was around.

Sharon feigned outrage, her mouth opening and closing silently like a fish in a tank, but he knew well she did not mind their teasing. If anything, she was so happy that he fit right in with her biological children that she was more than willing to endure a few jokes at her expense. It was all in good nature anyway: after seeing their mother alone for so many years, both Emily and Ricky had been pleasantly surprised – and more than a little excited when he'd first told them about Andy, long before they became a couple.

"Well," Sharon finally found her voice again, "I didn't want to make a big deal out of this."

"But it _is_ a big deal! Does Ricky know about this?" Emily asked, her eyes shifting once again to Rusty, who shook his head.

Sharon sighed. "I'll tell him when he gets here tomorrow. Now, Emily, why don't you tell me about tonight's show-"

"Oh, very smooth, Sharon." Rusty chuckled at her lame attempt at changing topic.

"Nuh-uh. I want to see it." Emily insisted, straining her neck to get a better look at the dresser.

"Ok. Fine." Sharon conceded. She went to pick up the item and moved it closer to the Mac's webcam, showing her daughter the silver necklace and the delicate square amethyst pendant.

"That's very nice mom. He obviously put some thought into it." Emily said, smiling. "You should keep this guy around."

Sharon hummed as she reached behind her to fasten the necklace. "I find that I just might." She admitted, her voice so low that it was barely audible. While they most definitely _were_ together, it was a rare occurrence to hear Sharon talk about her relationship with Andy in terms that went beyond plans for the following week. Or month, where games or theater tickets were concerned.

"And you didn't get him anything?" She pressed again, peeking out of the corner of her eye at Rusty, who rose his eyebrows and nodded. "I helped her pick them."

"I got him a pair of cufflinks," she conceded, "which I'm going to give him today after lunch."

Right then, her doorbell rang, interrupting the conversation. "This must be him," Sharon smiled. "Emily, honey, do you want to say hello to Andy or do you have to rush to rehearsal?" She asked.

"I'd love to say hello. And I promise I will not make things awkward for him." She said with a mock curtsey and a deceptively sweet smile that was all Sharon.

"I'm glad to hear that." Sharon called over her shoulders as she left the bedroom to go get the door.

"Until New Year's, that is?" Rusty smirked at her.

"Of course. When I actually get there, all bets are off."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This is not exactly what I had in mind for this piece, but I got swallowed by RL and I really wanted to post this before the start of S5. I might continue this in S5 if the mood strikes, but I have another MC WIP sitting in my notebook that I would like to type up and finish. Thank you for the lovely reviews!

This is set after Hindsight, pt.5

Rusty stared at the pajama pants in his hands. Blue and white checkers. He pondered them briefly, then picked a blue t-shirt from the drawer and stuffed the ensemble in his gym back, alongside a fresh toothbrush and razor. He slipped on a pair of socks, his eyes shifting every now and then to the bag, sitting half open on his chair. He ventured outside his room and found Sharon in her own. She was busy folding the suit she had been wearing at the wedding. She had traded the expensive for a plain t-shirt and a pair of drawstring sweatpants. A smart choice, he thought, after all they'd eaten at the reception lunch. He could hear Andy puttering around the kitchen; concocting some herbal tea of his, Rusty was sure.

"Sharon? Is this a bad moment?" He asked, poking his head in her bedroom.

Her face lit with a smile when she saw him. "Not at all, come in. I was just making sure this would not get wrinkled in the closet." She said, smoothing down the blazer lying neatly on the bed.

"It was a nice reception, wasn't it?" he stalled. "Very nice," she answered, "although I wish I hadn't had that second serving of salmon. I feel I might just explode." She winced, her hand going to her stomach.

"Yeah. I will probably skip dinner myself." He agreed. He fidgeted a bit. "On that subject…" he trailed of a bit, at a loss for words. Her eyes searched his, but he avoided eye contact.

"Anything wrong?" she asked, concern seeping immediately into her voice. "No." he said quickly, and saw relief easing the lines on her face. "It's just that…uh…Gus has suggested we go catch a movie or something tonight, and that maybe, if it gets too late, I could, you know…"

"sleep there?" she suggested, eyebrows arching into her forehead.

"Yeah."

"And you would like to say yes." She stated it matter-of-factly.

"Yes. I mean, it would be, like, a huge step in our relationship. And it's not like we have to do, you know, anything…" He felt his cheeks flush with heat. Sharon's eyes softened, her head tilting to the side. She reached out to touch his arm gently. "Of course you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, Rusty. You have all the time in the world." The act was nothing new to him, of course, but removing it from the disgusting experiences of his youth and reframing it in the context of an equal, loving relationship was going to take time and patience. "Do you trust him?" She asked, rubbing his upper arm.

"Yeah. Completely." He nodded, sure of his words. Gus was a good guy. He forgave him for being a total asshole to him during Slider's trial. He wouldn't pressure him into anything he wasn't ready for.

"Then I'm not going to hold you back. But, if you change your mind, or anything, know you can call me anytime, ok?" He nodded again, quietly. "Even if it's the middle of the night, I'll come and get you. Is it clear?"

"Yes Sharon," he said, and enveloped her into a hug. He felt her smile into his hair before she planted a kiss on his temple and released him.

"Was everything this smooth when you had this talk with Emily?" He asked as she resumed her task of clipping her skirt to a hanger.

"The hell it was." She blurted out, drawing a chuckle from him.

"That's a story I would like to hear someday."

"You should ask her next time she visits. I would tell you, but my account would be nothing without her dramatic flair." She rolled her eyes in mock annoyance, but her lips curled into a smile at the memories.

"See, after all, you get multiple perks with me. No need to worry about supporting an illegitimate grandchild *and* paying my tuition while I get through college." He smirked at her. Her chin quivered for a long second before she erupted in a loud, unladylike snort, followed by fits of laughter.

"I mean, I'm right, aren't I?" He laughed, too, not so much at his lame joke but at Sharon's amusement. It was a relief seeing her like that, after the strain the latest case had put on her.

"Yes," she said, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye, "But see, you get a pretty good deal with me as well."

Rusty narrowed his eyes. "And how is that?" He saw her chin tremble again, her lips pressed close in restrained laughter, and he knew he would regret his question.

She went to her closet to hang her suit, then turned back towards him. She cleared her throat to regain her composure. "At my age, you have no chance of getting any surprise siblings."

He took a step back, making a face. "Ew. Sharon, just ew." Making a joke out of his – possibly very near - future sex life was one thing, but he had no intentions of hearing about hers or thinking about the fact that she might have one. That he was leaving room for Flynn to spend the night almost made he rethink the whole sleepover at Gus'. Or maybe it was already a done deal. He'd been spending a lot of time studying at the library in the evenings. He didn't want to think about it.

"You know, I'm glad this has you in stitches. You've just shattered my fragile psyche and you're having a hearty laugh about it." He said sarcastically as she plopped on the bed, out of breath. She looked at him. Then snorted again, shaking her head.

His eyes rolled up to the ceiling. As serious as his mother was, there was no stopping the laughing fits. He sighed in resignation. "Oh, there she goes again."

"Oh no. No no no, I'm sorry." She dabbed at her eyes with the pads of her thumbs and took a shaky breath, trying to sober up. "I'm sorry, Rusty. You came to me with something very important, and here I am in hysterics. We're not the average mom and son, are we?" She cocked her head to the side, her eyes warm even as the corners of her mouth twitched with the remnant of her amusement.

"No, we are not" Rusty conceded, "but I wouldn't want it any other way."

Sharon smiled at him and pushed herself off the bed so she could hug him again. He wasn't normally very affectionate, but this big step made him both excited and scared, and it was in Sharon's arms that he felt that prickle of fear dissipate. He nuzzled her hair briefly before he released her.

"I'll put a change of clothes in my bag and then I'll get going. I'll text you, ok?"

She hummed in agreement. "I'll be here all night if we don't catch a murder, so if for any reason you should…"

He smiled. "If I change my mind I'll call you."

She seemed satisfied with his response. "Sure you don't want a cup of tea before you go? Andy should have it ready by now." He couldn't hear any more puttering from the kitchen, so he figured Flynn had hung back to give them a little privacy. For which he was grateful, because this was not a conversation he would have wanted to have with him, like, ever.

"Thanks, but I'll pass. I'll grab a coke from the fridge when I leave."

He went back to his room while she joined Andy in the kitchen. He picked up his phone from the large desk and tapped a message to Gus.

 _I'll be there in an hour. Hope you have enough milk for breakfast._

He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and smiled.


End file.
